


Solnyshko

by Hayato (FoxofPerdition)



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Medieval, America is an adorable dumbass, F/M, M/M, Russia is way too patient, Technically?, also technically, ice storms aren't fun, who fuckin cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-22
Updated: 2015-06-22
Packaged: 2018-04-05 15:50:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4185729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FoxofPerdition/pseuds/Hayato
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alfred really didn't expect to get tangled in some weird thing with a guy who lives in the woods, but hey, when in Rome, right?<br/>Er, Russia.<br/>His fathers were going to kill him if they found out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Solnyshko

**Author's Note:**

> Some maybe confusing parts are asterisked and put at the bottom for clarification!

Alfred shuddered, pulling his cloak tighter around himself, and cursed the merchant from out of town for his current predicament. Or, rather, his death or death situation. Hitch the kid up, the man says! Just run his life with no input from him! Sometimes Alfred wonders what the hell his parents are eating to just  _go along_ with that without considering him.

Then again his father did go on those strange trips for plants n' shit. Maybe they were breathing in the fumes of burnt berries or something, what did he know. Cursing again, he glanced around himself wearily, watching as the snow fell harder and harder around him. He still can't figure out how he landed in this situation.

/\/\/\/\

"Matheiu*, Alfred! Come down here, I want you to meet a friend of mine!" Their Papan called from outside. This was about two months before Things Went Down, and the brothers were currently stacking the firewood up near the stove. The twins (in all but blood) blinked and glanced at each other, wondering what was going on. As they exited their small cottage, they came upon the sight of the Papan slinging his arm across a very... pale man's shoulder and leaning with laughter.

"I cannot believe your brother allows you to get away with half the things- ah boys, there you are." He glanced at them with a gentle smile. "Matheiu, Alfred, this is an old traveling friend of mine, Gilbert Beildschmidt. We used to bond over ways to get one over your father and his friends."

"Aw c'mon Francis, there were also all those brothels we visited-" Gilbert started with a lecherous grin- before their papan promptly slapped him over the head.

"Do not taint my children with those tales!" He snapped, blushing.

"We've heard worse from you teasing Dad, though." Alfred pointed out, shifting his feet.

"And I'm pretty sure he's  _threatened_ worse, too." Mattheiu added. The looks on Francis' face said that their comments were not appreciated.

"Well if you can sass me, you can go get food for dinner. We're having more guests over tonight, so we need to prepare a grand meal! Alfred, go catch something. Matheiu, check the market for any new spices from the South." The boys groaned, but went to their jobs.

* * *

Alfred grumbled to himself as he trundled through the woods, his feet making the snow crackle. He had yet to find anything larger than a mouse, and he was starting to think he may have to turn up empty-handed- or worse, ask the pompous ass next door for something. He's just about to start attacking a tree in frustration when he hears a rustling to the right, and he freezes, bow drawn taught. They continued to rustle as a tall, cloaked man stumbled out of them. Alfred enviously noted he had at least three foxes thrown over his shoulder.

"Ah, hello! I am surprised to see someone else here. May I ask your name, little one?" The man kindly asked, violet eyes crinkling. Alfred bristled at the nickname because  **dammit**  he was 17, but calmed down since the man had to be at least in his 60s, with how he looked. His hair was an ashy brown, almost grey, and the teen was pretty sure he hadn't seen anyone but elders with a coat  _that_ thick.. Probably. Plus, everyone had to be little to him with that height.

"Alfred Kirkland. Or Bonnefoy, or Jones depending on preference. You?" He replied warily, lowering his bow slowly.

"Ivan!" The man smiled, and Alfred felt a chill going down his back. If that wasn't the smile of a dangerous man he didn't know what was- and what was with the generic name? It was always Ivan or Vasiliy nowadays wasn't it, nothing unique...

"Alfred?" Alfred blinked and startled, the tall man- Ivan- now suddenly in front of him. He snickered at the blond's reaction. "You went away for a bit, little one. Are you alright?"

"A-ha, yeah, sorry, I tend to do that. Family trait." He said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his head. "Er, sorry if this is abrupt, but do you remember where you found those?" He waved vaguely at the foxes over his shoulder. "I've been hunting for at least an hour and a half, and my father's gonna be pissed if I don't come back with something for company."

"Ah, I cleaned out the whole burrow, I am afraid." Ivan said regretfully. Alfred groaned in frustration and ran a hand through his hair. With how it was looking, he was  _definitely_ going to have to go to Eduard for some of his store. But he glances up when he hears the man clear his throat, and widens his eyes in shock at the animals dangling in front of his face.

"Woah, no man, those are yours." He protested, nudging them back from his face.

"I was quite honestly only going to use the pelts and trade the meat." Ivan shot back, amused, pushing them forward. "If you bring the pelts back to me, you get the meat and we are both happy, da?"

"Why wouldn't you want the meat? Everyone wants meat." Alfred asked suspiciously. The taller man simply shrugged his shoulders.

"No salt. Do you want them or not?" Alfred hesitated, feeling like this was something he really shouldn't be doing, before reaching forward slowly and taking the captures. His fingers briefly glanced the other man's, and he was surprised that they were very warm. Looking at them, he could tell they were expertly taken down; Ivan had obviously gone for the quick route and shot for the head.

"Uh, thanks I g-" Oh. During the time he had spent inspecting the kills, the older man had disappeared. Peering to see if he could tell which way he even went, Alfred sighed and started to head back home.

* * *

"Alfred, these are magnifique! I'll be able to make an excellent stew out of them. Where did you find them?" Francis was standing at their stove, heaving up a large pot usually used for boiling water. Alfred hemmed and ignored the question, still trying to get the skin off the last fox.

It was loud in their small house these evening, with three more guests and all the family there for once. Gilbert apparently had two more brothers, an older and younger one who could pass for twins if not for age. The older brother was named Ludwig and tended to yell at his pale brother- albino they called him or something?- while awkwardly answering their father's questions. The younger brother, Wilhelm*, was quiet, and mostly just watched the fire they had going. He had to be around their age, maybe a little younger. Alfred had a feeling it would be hard to get more than a sentence out of him.

"Well, there was a burrow in the woods y'know, and I masterfully lured them out and ambushed them!" He spouted, ignoring how he even he cringed.

"Al, the last time you tried to.. 'lure something out', you ended up falling in your own trap and broke an arm." His brother said slowly. Alfred shot him a desperate look that said  _MATTIE NO, NEED HELP._ That only got him a raised brow.

"Well however you got it, at least we have food. I don't want to waste our store on a pig like you, Gilbert." Their father rolled his eyes from his spot near Ludwig, and Alfred could see Gilbert faking offense.

"Why Arthur, and after all I do for you! You'd think all those fancy gadgets we saved would at least build some semblance of respect."

"Not when you drink all my alcohol whenever you appear." Arthur snapped, glaring. "Do you know how hard it is to collect more than a few ounces in an area like this?" Gilbert waved him off, snickering.

The evening went mostly like this, Francis setting down bowls once everything was prepared. It was surprisingly good, for mostly being just meat, boiled water, spices, and some salt. Gilbert went on and on about some of the places they had been, people they had met, old friends. Their Papan was completely absorbed, and even their father commented at points. The twins kept to themselves, although Mattie did occasionally glance at the kid, who was now eyeing their father's collection of books. Alfred caught the tail end of part of the conversation and began to pay attention again, interested.

"I still don't know why you two moved out here! It's the dead end of nowhere, and it's a pain in the ass just to get here! I mean, we've been so out of the way that I didn't even know you picked up  _those."_ Gilbert exclaimed, waving at the twins. "Kesese, how long did it take you to convince one of the fraus around here? A week? Month?"

Arthur gave him a cold glare. "I'm afraid that's private, Bieldschmidt. And none of your business on both accounts."

"But, Dad, why did you pick to live here?" Mattie cut in quietly, twitching when everyone suddenly focused on him. "I-I mean," He continued, paling, " It is pretty far away from your homes, isn't it? And no one around here actually speaks French or English." His father's glare softened and he looked away, pursing his mouth. It was an awkward silence that fell, and Ludwig sighed as his brother finally seemed to get the hint that it actually  _was_ private.

"Matheiu, Alfred, you two have to understand." He started slowly. "In places such as England and France, people are... different. They have different beliefs, and they react to.. things differently. I had to leave England because I did things that they didn't believe in. And your father had to leave France because he had something they didn't react well to. And even if this place is far away from both, we're happier here." His eyes were glazed over, as if remembering something, before they snapped up to dig daggers into Gilbert. "And that's all I'm willing to say on the matter."

The rest of the evening was dead silent.

* * *

Alfred could hear his two parents talking quietly in the morning, after their guests had left and they had all gone to rest. It was nearing light, and he was still up, but he couldn't sleep for the life of him. Whether it be because of the meeting in the forest or the talk over dinner, he didn't know.

He couldn't make out what they were saying, not really, and could only understand random, nonsensical words. After a bit, he heard the door open and close quietly, and one of them sighed. He peaked his eyes open just enough to squint, and could make out a tall shape near the still roaring stove. His Papan then. Staring at the man, he could dimly see him in the light of the fire, and could see the multitude of scars covering his skin, ranging from his neck to his arms and legs. He wondered if they had anything to do with what his father mentioned last night.  _Best not to dwell on it._

Closing his eyes, he thought over the day. He'd need to check the stores, see what was in the market, and tend to the crops a bit, maybe water them. They had a small patch next to the house that was almost never snowed over and was full of vegetables and herbs. Sometimes he wondered just how it stayed that way but hey, easily accessible ground, who cares. He'd also have to give those pelts to the man from yesterday- if he even had time.

And it turned out he didn't, not between having to trash half their stores because of a mold infestation and arguing with a woman in the market over a basket of bread. By the time night was in full swing, he was tired to the bone and even a bit angry, because as much as he didn't like having to pack away all that food for some improbable stretch of starvation, he really wish he didn't have to be the one to tell his father that they now had to rebuild what had taken two years.

The Beildschmidts had come over again, after dinner thankfully, and were talking up a storm about some trade or another they were doing. Alfred wasn't interested in the slightest and instead sharpened his arrows, singing a tune under his breath.

"Hey kid!" A hand clapped down on his shoulder and Alfred screeched, unintentionally clenching his hand and breaking the arrow he was working on. He stared at it balefully for a few moments before giving the sheepish Gilbert a flat look. "Sorry, Sorry! I'll make you some better ones later, kid. Listen how old are you? 18, 19? What are you doing cooped up in here?"

Alfred glanced behind him and saw Francis and Arthur arguing again. Welp, that explained why Gilbert was talking to him. "Well I'm not exactly gearing to go out in the middle of the night. I'm tired, man." The pale man shook his head in amusement.

"No, dumbass, I mean in this place itself. I know those two numbskulls must be looking into as many matches as they can for you and your brother, but you gotta go out and do some work yourself too! Saddle up to a girl, charm her, invite her for a moonlit walk, the whole shabam! Your brother's already gotten to it!" Alfred refrained from telling the man he brother was probably looking for rusalkas* in the water nearby and instead turned back to his arrows, picking up another to sharpen.

"Dad and Papan don't do that sort of stuff. They sorta just make sure we don't end up accidentally shacked up with someone." There was a moment of quiet from behind him, before Gilbert let out a very unneeded "WHAT!"

"What?" Ah, his fathers were startled out of their argument then.

"You two really haven't arranged anything for them? Are you out of your minds? They're men now- you can't just have them stay with you their whole lives!" The man behind him yelled.

"Now who the hell said you could have any opinion on how we raise our children!" Arthur spit back, his voice wavering. Alfred groaned silently and huddled more into the corner, envying his brother greatly.

* * *

_Where the hell could he be?_ Alfred thought, walking through the woods again. He had found a free moment to grab the pelts from the house and go to the woods to hopefully find the man again and repay him. Well, flee would be the more appropriate word; the air in the house was probably the most tense it had ever been, and he still remembered the time he managed to eat some of his father's herbs.  _That day_ had ended with him being put on a 24-hour watch and his father crying his eyes out.

"Hello?" He called, looking around cautiously. "Ivan?" He paused, hearing something crack, and turned to see a small squirrel dart up a tree. "Oh."

"Hello Alfred!" He screamed and jumped, unconsciously swinging his knife in the direction of the voice. An arm guard stopped him, and he smiled up sheepishly at the bemused face of the older man.

"Sorry. Ingrained response." Ivan waved off his apology, instead staring intensely at the bag in his hand.

"Are those the pelts?" Alfred nodded and dug them out, handing them over.

"I would have brought them yesterday, but I ended up spending most of the day cleaning out our stores." He explained. The other inspected the pelts, smiling with approval.

"Ah, I suppose his spell worked then." He mumbled, tucking them into his large cloak.

"Wait, what?"

"You are Arthur Kirkland's son, yes? He comes into these woods often, and some find him to be very irritating. If I remember, one of them said he was going to get a jab at him." Ivan replied absentmindedly. He looked up suddenly, as if remembering that Alfred was actually there, and gave a friendly smile. "Would you like to come to my house for a cup of tea? It is nothing like your father's, I am sure, but I would like to thank you for actually returning." Alfred felt like it was a very, very bad idea to agree and that he should probably yell stranger danger like Francis had ingrained into him and his brother. But, as he bit his lip and considered it, there wouldn't be any harm in it, right? Just a cup of tea and then he'd go home, right?

* * *

This was a bad idea. Horrible. Appalling. He was an idiot.

They were deep into the woods right now, deeper than he had ever gone, and from the little he could see through the canopy, it had to be at least mid-afternoon. He had gone into the woods early in the morning. Looking at the man in front of him, he wanted to hit himself for not thinking this through. What if he was one of the ones who didn't like his father? What if he tried to do something to get at Arthur? He felt a shiver go down his spine at the thought and gulped.

"We are here!" Ivan chirped, startling the teen out of his self-imposed gloom. Said teen looked up and stopped in surprise, taking in the sight before him. They had arrived in a clearing that had grass reaching to the very edges uncovered, and in the middle was a well-made and well-sized, better than any of the ones in the village. It had a small patch of plants to the side of it, and what might have been animals were cheerily painted on the walls. There were windows facing them, and he could faintly see a fireplace inside one.

"Pretty, is it not? It took me a while to get it to this point." Ivan said behind him, standing proudly with his hands at his hips. Alfred nodded in agreement, walking ahead to peer at the flowers on the ground.

"How did you even find a spot like this? We're lucky if we see this in the spring in the village." He thumbed the petal of a purple flower, smiling at the softness.

"I am very lucky." The older man chuckled and ambled up to the house, opening the door. "Now, I believe I promised tea earlier?" Alfred hurriedly followed him, rolling his eyes as the man giggled.

The inside of the house was surprisingly spartan, only a bed, table, and fireplace taking up space. There was an assortment of tools and weapons in the corner, and books piled near the bed. Ivan set a small kettle over the fireplace, pouring in water with a hum.

"So how has the village been fairing, little one? I have not been there in a long time, not since the blizzard at least." He asked, turning to Al. Alfred tried not to laugh as the man just flopped to the floor next to the fireplace. He sat down as well, instead leaning against the wall.

"That happened when I was five, I think? A lot of people have left since then, but we get traffic so there isn't much difference. Um.." He tried to remember things that had changed over the years, new houses or families. "I know Basch Zwingli* opened up a smithy finally, connected to the inn. And the Eastern* family that's lived here for a while, their youngest left to be a merchant."

"Kiku?"

"I think so. He was nice enough, even if he was kinda weird. Knew how to make a mean slingshot." The water began to boil, and Ivan quickly reached over to put something in- were those berries or leaves?- before turning back to him.

"He was a very shy boy, from what I remember. Always quick to take his father down a peg, however." The two laughed a little at that, and Alfred finally relaxed. Maybe he trust this guy as an actual guy and not some angry freak.

* * *

"Did you tell your family where you were going?" Alfred blinked at the random question that had interrupted his tale of Matheiu trying to tame a bear and looked at Ivan in confusion. The man simply took another sip of his tea and pointed outside. Alfred turned and then very nearly had a conniption, as it was dark to the point of not seeing three feet past the windows.

"SHIT- oh God, crap, Dad's gonna be pissed-" He rambled, shooting up and checking his clothes to make sure he had his knife and bag. "Crap, I'm so sorry Ivan, I gotta leave  _now_ or else they're gonna chew me out worse and it's gonna be annoying as hell." The older man stood as well, placing his cup on the table and watching with amusement as Alfred threw the door open and ran outside before running back inside with a terrified expression on his face.

"It's dark out there." He squeaked. "There's bears and monsters in the wood and it's dark out there I refuse to go out there."

"What happened to the courageous boy who fought back a rabid wolf?" Ivan asked, hiding a grin.

"Well it was more like a wild dog and I sort of just threw something and distracted it so I could stun it and run but this is different! That was just to keep it from my kill, this is a situation where  _I_ may be the kill!" Ivan stopped hiding his grin.

"Well, you could always stay here for the night. I do not mind." He put forth. Alfred shook his head.

"I just stayed here for hours, I don't want be any more of a bother. And besides.. you sort of only have one bed." He gestured at said bed with a faint blush. Ivan responded by nudging the table aside and dragging out more blankets than seemed necessary for one person. Alfred stared at the pile of them in disbelief, and then at Ivan.

"I have a lot of night visitors." Was the only response he was given, and he sighed, looking between them and the door. On one hand, possibly dying or getting lost. On the other, worrying his family into a panic and staying more than what was polite.

….

"Okay, yeah, I think I like living more." He shuddered and reluctantly took one of the blankets offered, ignoring the man's delighted smile.

"Do not worry, I will take you back to the village as soon as it is light, da? Now continue with your story! Your brother sounds very interesting." Alfred settled into what decided to call the Nest of Furs and continued from where he left off. Off in the distance, he thought he heard a noise, a bird maybe, but dismissed it as not important and continued.

* * *

Alfred woke up slowly to the sun in his eyes, and sat up with a yawn. Blearily looking at the windows, he wondered how his father had managed to sand the sill before realising this was very much not his home. Before he could start to panic, the events of the night before set in, and he laid back down with a groan.

"Are you alright, Alfred?" Came a voice in front of him, laced with light concern. He wiggled a little before he could see the face of the voice. Ivan was awake, had obviously been awake much longer than him, and was reading from one of the books that had sat next to the bed. His expression was a curious one.

"Yeah, just thinking of my parents. They're gonna kill me, and then Mattie's going to guilt trip me until I practically wait on him hand and foot." He moaned, rubbing a hand over his face. "Knowing them, they probably came up with some theory of me getting eaten by a predator, or that I eloped with one of the town girls."

"Who would you run away with, Erika? Basch would kill you." The man amusedly threw back, thumbing a page. Alfred snorted in response.

"With me they think of everything. Probably my fault with all the er, incidents."

"Yes, trying to fly and lead a warrior team of children tends to make parents resigned to certain things." Ivan stood from his bed, stretching. He glanced at Alfred with a raised brow. "Would you like me to take you home now? I know I promised as soon as it was light last night, but you were so peaceful I did not want to disturb you." He teased. Alfred flushed and rolled his eyes, shrugging off the Nest of Furs. He stood himself and opened the door for them, waiting for Ivan to take the lead.

They walked in an amiable quiet, the sounds of the forest around them providing enough noise. Alfred could hear the birds chirping and talking to one another, and the branches creaking with the weight of the new snow. It was a nice morning, much better than the snow storms or freezing rain that sometimes happened. Peeking at Ivan from his spot next to him, he had a feeling he knew how the man could survive all the way out here without anyone.

It was a much quicker walk out of the forest than it was to reach the tall man's house, it seemed, and it couldn't have been past midday when they reached the edge of the treeline. Alfred turned to Ivan, about to ask if he wanted to come and meet some of the new residents, but something in the man's face stopped him.

"Thanks for taking me back. And the tea." He said instead, rubbing at the back of his neck. Ivan smiled down at him.

"It was no problem! It was very enjoyable to talk to someone else, especially someone with such interesting stories. I hope we can meet again?" The sentence lilted at the end, and Alfred nodded vigorously.

"Definitely! But right now, I've got to be the hero and make sure no one's tried to kill each other, hehe." He waved goodbye to his new friend, running down to the edge of the village. He didn't notice Ivan's face darken, or a long rod slip from his cloak. Nor did he see the man giggle and swing to bury the rod into the neck of something unspeakable emerging from the trees.

Alfred panted as he ran between the houses, swerving to avoid people walking or livestock grazing. As he saw his home come into view, he flinched and skidded to a stop at the small group in front of it. As the sound of him coming to a stop hit their ears, they turned and watched him with no small amount of disbelief. In the center of them was his father, haggard and angry.  _Shit_.

"Alfred," he began slowly.  _Shitshitshit_. "Where were you all night?"

"I, uh, sort of lost track of time, and by the time I realised it was dark I wouldn't have had time to make it back to the house." Translation: I was most likely out in the woods and was an idiot who didn't keep track of time and got stuck somewhere.

"And how would you not have been able to make it to the house?" His father continued. His eyes were green chips of ice at this point.

"I was... sort of visiting a.. friend and they don't... they aren't..." He stuttered, not able to get a clear sentence out. He knew by now he was pale and looked scared shitless.

"Ah, it's that sort of situation?" Gilbert cut in with a seemingly wise eye. Everyone stared at him in confusion until he elaborated. "You were with someone you didn't want others to know about, hmm? It's natural, I know I did this sort of thing when I was younger." Alfred really didn't appreciate that perverted grin the man was sporting.

"Vater punished you severely every time you did that. With his belt." Ludwig muttered from beside his brother, eyes cast upward. Gilbert elbowed him in the stomach with a scowl.

"Is that true, Alfred?" Arthur turned his eyes back to his son. The teen felt as if they were cutting into him and demanding the truth, and he was damned if he actually told it.

"I... yeah. I-we didn't want anyone to know, wanted to it to stay private and everything." He trailed off at the end, feeling guilty for lying. His family had been worried all night, and now he was lying about Ivan, and this was just not an awesome way to start his day off? Arthur scrutinized him closely, eyes narrowed, before sighing and passing a hand over his face.

"I wish you would  _tell_  us before you pull stunts like these- you wouldn't  _believe_  how worried I was- I thought that you- hrmpf. Next time you decide to go off gallivanting with a sweetheart, please give us warning." Alfred frantically nodded, anything to keep his father happy, just none of the eyes dear God.

"Kesesese, what did I tell you last night? The kid's cooped up so bad he's running off! You need-" Ludwig was the one who elbowed him this time, and the smaller brother went down like a rock, groaning. "Ah, Luddy, whyy~" The blond snapped something in another language that made Gilbert shut up, and Alfred supposed that was the end of that. The group slowly dispersed, some patting Arthur on the back or exchanging words and other shooting Alfred looks that he'd rather not interpret the meaning of. When they were all gone, only the Beildschmidts and his father were left, and he cautiously walked over to his father.

"I'm having you weed the garden and sort my herbs." His father said with a stern tone that brooked no arguments. "And then.." He hesitated and looked Alfred in the eye, serious. "We're going to have a talk after dinner." Alfred gulped, and all he could do was nod.

* * *

"Mattie? You there?" He was by the inn, near a large cart that had been parked near it. Eyeing it, Alfred could just tell it had to be the merchant brothers'. "Mattie?"

"Al?" He turned his head just in time to see his brother rushing towards him and spread his arms just in time to catch him. "You idiot! Where were you for the past day?"

"Promise you won't tell?" Matheiu pulled back his head and nodded, face grim. "I was hanging out with a giant guy I met in the woods. By the time he pointed out it was dark I was sort of screwed on the 'going home' front."

"Oh my God, Al."

"What? It's not that bad! You go in the woods all the time!" His brother snorted and pulled away, leaning against the wall.

"It's worse than the time you tried to make one of the geese lay a golden egg. And at least  _I_ know not to follow complete strangers to their isolated homes."

"Okay, in all fairness, that asshole  _told_  me it did and you can never expect normal stuff anymore-"

"Al." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, grimacing.

"I know. I'm really sorry bro, I wasn't thinking. Him inviting me over was sort of out of the blue, too. And I know not to do it again, Dad already gave me the scary eyes." Both of them shivered and his brother gave him a comforting pat on the back; their father was outright  _demonic_  when he was angry.

"So.. is he making you do anything...?" Alfred snorted.

"Oh, he had me weed the garden, but there was barely anything there. And he was going to have me sort his herbs, but then he realised how bad that would turn out and had me deliver a package to Basch. Speaking of which-" He hurried into the inn, aptly dodging one of the travelers exiting. They sent him a bewildered glance and he answered with a smirk and a wink.

"Zwingli!" He called, coming to a stop in the middle of the gathering area. Basch Zwingli popped his head out of one of the upstairs rooms and glared down with a huff. Alfred lifted the bag in his hands. "Delivery!"

That got the man's attention. He zipped down as quick as a bee, coming to a curt stop in front of the young man. Snatching the bag, he handed Alfred a few coins and looked inside, inspecting the contents. As Alfred counted out the money, he asked, "What's in there, anyways? You usually don't make requests for Dad."

"Wanted protection. There's some stirring in the forest." The man grunted. He glanced at Alfred, giving him a quick once-over. "You'd do well to keep out of there, brat. I doubt your father noticed the pine needles sticking to your boots, but it'd be best if he didn't find out and you didn't go back in." Alfred flushed angrily and turned, reaching down to brush off his boots as he went.  _Damn old man!_

Mattie was waiting for him outside, and holding something in his hands. As Alfred got closer, he could see it was small and pale.

"What you got there?" His brother silently held out his hands, an uneasy frown on his face. Laying carefully in his palms was what looked to be a piece of splintered, frozen bone.

* * *

Dinner that night was tense, and Alfred felt as if he was suffocating on it. His Papan had forgiven him easily enough, hugging him and demanding he not scare them like that again, and his father hadn't acted cold or furious. But that didn't change the feeling he had that something was deeply wrong.

"Uh-" He paused, everyone's eyes turning towards him. He ignored the intense feeling to scratch his neck. "Dad, is there something going on in town? Mr. Zwingli was talking about the woods, and Mattie found a piece of bone earlier. Are the predators going ditzy or something?" His father slowed his eating and his put his fork down, in thought.

"Could I see the bone, Matheiu?" Said bone was handed over, and their father examined it carefully, tsking at the ice that had somehow not melted. After a few minutes he pocketed it with a scowl.

"Arthur?" Francis asked concernedly, nudging his partner. Arthur swatted his hand and picked up his fork again.

"It's nothing for you two to worry about. Just some of the animals in the forest going rabid." He finally replied calmly. The disbelief in the room was palpable.

"Arthur, mon cher, you cannot think we actually believe that, do you?" Francis put forth, giving Arthur an annoyed look. The Englishman didn't answer. "Mon cherr~"

The two teens watched with resignation as their Papan reached forward to take the shorter man into his arms, only to be brutally and predictably punched back. Which led to him determinedly trying to grab Arthur, and then everything devolved into the weekly fight that ended in their strange cuddling. Which namely involved Arthur spitting insults as Francis rubbed his cheek against the Brit's hair.

"I am so going out tomorrow." Alfred muttered. Matheiu sighed next to him and began to prepare to turn in early.

* * *

Whatever talk they were supposed to have that night never occurred, and Alfred spent the next week doing any odd jobs the village needed done and, unsurprisingly, going against the word of pretty much anyone over 30 and heading into the woods to meet with Ivan. The man refused to come into the town for some reason, instead choosing to meet at the edge of the woods and lead them to his clearing, where they often just talked or did stupid things for fun. It provided for a peaceful distraction to the quickly darkening atmosphere of the village and the... strange habits his family was developing.

Sure, he knew that Mattie had his head in the clouds a lot, and tended to wander while he was thinking, but knowing he went into the woods more than Al set the blond on edge, and he was worried about what his brother was actually  _doing_. When he voiced his concern to Ivan, the man had oddly brushed it off.

"He is most likely exploring, or going for a dip!" He had reassured, chuckling strangely at the end. Alfred had given him a look, but didn't talk about it again. He decided to ride the waves of anything weird that happened.

Actually, besides tension building up and Alfred's brotherly worry, the only thing that really happened in the next few weeks was the abundance of remains being found near the forest and his fathers becoming more distant. That in itself wouldn't be strange if it weren't for Francis being insane about affection and Arthur as protective as a mother bear. So the fact they barely talked anymore combined with their refusal to look him in the eye was slightly off-putting.

And there was the day he got lost.

He had told Ivan the day before that he would find his home by himself, prove that he could make it through the woods. The man had given him a small smile that said he didn't believe he could and simply put more firewood in his arms. He had gone in a little after noon expecting for his self-imposed mission to go easily enough, but by about mid-afternoon he realised he had absolutely no chance of finding the house. The part of the woods he was in was foreign, none of the landmarks he remembered were where they should be, and he was ready to give up and start hollering for help when he tripped on something.

As he fell onto his hands and knees with a grunt, he heard a small laugh and looked up, curious. Off in a small grove was what looked to be a person, maybe a woman? Standing and brushing himself off, he stumbled forward- now watching for stray roots- until he reached it. It certainly was a grove, a large one with a circular pond in the middle. Tree branches wove together above to create a veritable roof that let in only enough light to see with. And it certainly was a woman who had laughed at him, just... not one that he had expected.

"Hello." She greeted him warmly, smile lighting up her face, "Are you alright? I saw you fall." She was beautiful, yes, with clay-coloured hair, eyes similar to Ivan's, and a... bountiful chest. But she also had mottled, ugly bruise marks around her throat, and a paleness to her that spoke of something not alive. Plus, you know, the fact she was near nude and wading in a fucking pond in the middle of a forest clued him in a little as well.

"..Yeah." He finally answered, glancing around the clearing. She seemed to be the only one here. "I just slipped, nothing damaged. Er, I'm Alfred. You are..?"

"Iryna." She answered cheerfully. "You are Ivan's companion, yes?" He blinked.

"You know Ivan?" That got him another laugh, and the beautiful woman leaned her face against her forearms, staring up at him.

"Everyone knows Ivan in this forest, child. We are all brothers and sisters here. Well, almost all. And we all know of his trompings in here with you; he must be very fond of you to keep you on a set path, not letting you stray." She paused for a moment and bit her lip, her eyes almost seeming to water. "I just wish he would bring you around to his dear sister, or at least pay a visit. You would think he would have time." Her eyes watered more, and the most Alfred could think was  _Oh Goddammit. I can't do this._

"Er... I'm sure he wants to. He's probably just... really busy." He tried lamely, crouching to pat her on the arm. "He's always talking about being lonely cooped up in his house." Iryna sniffled and laid a hand over his, and he had to fight the urge to shrink from what felt like leather covering wire.

"Ah, thank you for trying to console me, child. Maybe, the next time you see him, you could tell him his dear older sister Iryna is wishing for a visit?" He frantically nodded his head yes, and she began to smile again. "Thank you, little one. And..." She leaned in closer, eyes narrowing before she nodded. "Yes, I was right. Please tell Matvey hello as well? He has not been able to visit in the past week." He nodded again, this time dazed, and she finally released her grip on his hand. He scrambled away as politely as he could and cleared his throat, adjusting imaginary wrinkles in his shirt.

"Well, I, I have to go and find the house before Ivan gets worried. I'll deliver your messages, Ms. Iryna." The woman smiled wider and hummed, watching as he hurried out of the grove. Just as he left hearing distance, she shouted,

"You are very lucky you are such a loved boy, little one! If not, I would have pulled you under!"

* * *

So, disregarding incidents of getting lost or chores, much of his day he usually spent his with Ivan or his brother, if he was even in the village. It made him notice a lot of small things he didn't realise before- like how Mattie collected small seashells he found near streams, or how Ivan was obsessed with the body. How Mattie loved bears to a dangerous extent- seriously, trying to tame one  _again?_ Or how the older man would make horrifying comments with the tone you would use to remark on the weather and then wince after. Or how he would make an aborted gesture sometimes, as if he was going to swing something but realised he couldn't at the last second. It usually happened when Al surprised him, or when there was a sudden noise in the woods. His smile when he did it reminded Alfred of pieces of glass arranged in a crescent.

Alfred noticed these oddities, but said nothing because hey, not dead yet right? Well, no, he actually did question some of them. One afternoon, before he was to head back, Alfred had saddled up to the man and fell dramatically across his lap, hand at his forehead.

"Oh, woe is me, having to go back out into the cold, unforgiving world!" He held that pose for at least a few seconds before they both broke down into snickers. "Nah, seriously Ivan, how is it always so warm here? I go back to the village and people are trying to make their tunics and coats part of their bodies with how bad it is. But here, half the time I want to just shirk it all because of the heat."

"I am a demon of ice who can propel the cold and freeze if I want." The man answered seriously. Alfred paused, peering up at his face, which seemed less old and more of ageless at the moment, before breaking into loud laughter.

"Good one man, you almost had me with that tone!" Ivan simply smiled, and Alfred brushed off the voice in the back of his head telling him it might be true, with the things people had seen in the woods; for all he knew, he friend could have been a lake spirit, or a leshy*. But since he wasn't trying to drown him and wasn't covered by only a long beard, he didn't care.

Not to mention the man actually laughed at his stupid jokes, and didn't push him away when he got too huggy or loud, and even taught him when he was confused over something. He didn't mind the obnoxiousness that made most of his peers avoid him. It was nice, and brought colour to his cheeks and a warm feeling to his stomach.

But all throughout that time there was an undercurrent of uneasiness, running through the whole village. More and more bones and disgusting things were showing up, often coated in ice and broken into pieces. Ones that didn't look human. Strange noises could be heard at night coming from the forest, and half the village was claiming they were the screams of the damned, or the calls of abominations. His family stayed out of the public opinion, his Papan not caring and his father not wanting to, seeing as his job involved trekking into the damn thing every day for supplies. But that didn't change the fact that everyone was scared in some way, to the point where Eduard was being nice and Toris, his brother, actually left their house for more than two minutes to come and see how life was going for the outside world. Matheiu and him had even been sharpening their tools and weapons as much as they could, and keeping a close eye on their stores; you never knew what could happen.

* * *

One night, as he was laying near Ivan's small house (something he was thankfully allowed to do, as everyone believed he was sneaking off to a sweetheart- hee!), he stared up at the stars and wondered about his large friend.

"Hey, Ivan." He called, glancing over to the open window. The man stuck his head out, interrupted from preparing whatever weird meat he had caught. "Do you have any family? Or, did you?" The man's head disappeared, and a moment later he was walking through the doorway, makeshift plates in hand. His face was thoughtful.

"I suppose in a way I do." He replied, watching as the young man sat up and took a plate. "You have met Iryna already, da? She is technically my sister. The spectre from the west, Natalia, she is as well, even if she is very scary. The beings of this forest are my siblings, for as long as they stay here."

"That must be a big family!" Alfred exclaimed. "Don't you have children or something, though? You look old enough to."

"And you look old enough to lead a platoon." The man teased, munching on their mystery meat. "Ah, I see no need for children. Too crushable. I have all the family I need here in the forest! And if I need company, I have you." Alfred huffed and ignored his cheeks heating, instead finishing his plate.

"What about before you came here? What was your trade? Where have you gone?"

"One question at a time, Solnyshko*." Ivan interrupted him, amused and ignoring his sputtering. He shifted so he could face the boy, a smile once again taking up his face. " Ah, the easiest one is most likely the first. I have been here most of my life- my family, or really only my father, lived right in here, before people became afraid of it and fled to the outskirts. He raised me in his craft, and molded me into a person who would not need to depend on the czar or the court to survive, and he succeeded! So I have essentially been a hunter and forager, sometimes selling my findings in the forest to the nearby village." He paused, looking at the stunned teen. "Does that answer your questions?"

"So you've never really left the forest?" He asked tentatively, making a noise when he was answered with a nod. Laying down, he sighed. "Man, that's got to be boring. How do you even keep yourself occupied, holed up in here all the time?"

Ivan hummed. "Well, I used to just hunt and weave giant blankets from the furs I collected. I was never one for associating with the others in the forest." The man scooted over, flopping down next to his friend with a grin. "But now I have you to keep me occupied. Isn't that nice?" Alfred snorted out a laugh and pretended he wasn't leaning into the Russian's side.

This was a bad thing, growing in him, but he couldn't care or stop it.

Of course, the Thing that happened wasn't even remotely related to those happenings in any way, by a stroke of fortune. Or misfortune. Your pick.

It was the night when Things Went Down that he came back in from a hunt, Ivan having had pointed out much better areas than the ones he usually frequented; apparently, nothing really came near the first hundred metres of the village. Who would have guessed, with the large human population and increasing need to gather sustenance. Ha.

He had just set the bag and his cloak down, filled with a few thrushes, when he spotted his father, Papan, and Gilbert gathered around the table and actually speaking in low tones. Which instantly set him on edge.

"Ah, mon fils, there you are." Francis smiled weakly at him before allowing it to fall with a wince when he saw the teen's expression. "Don't wear that expression, Alfred."

"What's going on? You're usually fighting by this point, or someone's throwing something." He demanded warily, eyes flickering from person to person. Gilbert snorted at the comment but held his tongue for once, instead watching the family.

"Alfred," Arthur faltered, clearing his throat and beginning again, "Alfred, you're a young man by now, you're able to support yourself well enough from what we've taught you, and-"

"You're marrying me off." Alfred cut in bluntly. Arthur stared at him for a moment more and dropped his eyes to the table. "Who's it to? As far as I know, Zwingli would never let me near his sister, the Fyodorovs are terrified of us, and the Kozlovs would rather slaughter a goat than let me near either of theirs. Everyone else is too young, too old, or too married." Both parents flinched, and Francis' face was crinkled with hurt.

"Alfred, please understand, it is for the best, even if it doesn't seem it right now. We wouldn't force you to be with someone you would not be able to connect with." Alfred ignored the knowing expression on Francis' face, eyes still hard. Said man hesitated, looking towards Arthur before firming his resolve, "It is not to someone in the village either. It is to an acquaintance of your father, who is agreeable to the idea."

"So someone I don't even know." Alfred said dully, sinking to the floor. "What about Mattie? If you're just foisting me off on someone, I think I'm going to call mega bullshit." There was silence, and Alfred knew when no one berated him for his language that yes, he was doomed.

"The other brat was already shacked." Gilbert spoke up for the first time. His pink eyes were calm, and he was stirring the cup in his hand with a nonchalance Alfred wanted to punch him for. "Said he had met a girl from out of town named Iryna. So you're the only one left, kid." The name sent a jolt of shock through him, but Alfred eyed him silently, mouth set in a hard frown. With no small amount of anger he stood, grabbing his cloak from where it was set with his bag.

"I refuse." He stated flatly, pulling it on. The others shot up in an instant, their faces alarmed, and he glared at them with narrowed eyes. "The next time you take advice form a guy you haven't seen in nearly two decades, fuck off and don't include me in it." With that he slammed the door and began a mad dash towards wherever, not looking in the slightest to where he was going. Their voices called out, but he ignored them, set in running as far away as he could.

\/\/\/\/

Which was why he was in the situation he was in now, huddled under a tree with his cloak wrapped around him. He had unthinkingly dashed into the woods, not realising it until he had slammed into a tree and was subsequently buried in snow. After digging himself out for a few minutes, he had slid over to another tree and flopped down, exhausted.

That had probably been an hour ago. Now he was just trying to keep the majority of the snow from covering him, and was beginning to get tired in a way that told him shit was very, very wrong. But, well, it's not like he could try navigating the storm, because that'd kill him quicker. And more painfully. He huffed out another breath onto his hand, hoping to warm them; it didn't help. Just like it hadn't the past few times. And as his eyesight started to blur, and the edges of his vision began to grey, he had a feeling that wouldn't exactly matter soon. As he slumped further down into the snow, he thought he heard a noise at his side, and maybe even something nudging him, but he was so tired, and didn't want to think anymore...

* * *

When he came to, everything was muffled, and he was resting against something huge and warm. He let out a small sigh and burrowed into it, hoping to stay warm instead of the freezing cold of earlier. But that made the warmth shift, and suddenly he was lifted in the air, his arms forced upwards. Blearily blinking his eyes open, they slowly focused into the taut, worried face of Ivan.

"Hmmmnnnm-" He hummed, trying to look around to see where he even was. His mouth felt like cotton, and his limbs were heavy and stinging in places. But Ivan refused to let him, instead setting him back down at his side before going back to whatever he had been doing. As his mind focused more, Alfred realised he was actually talking.

"-not moving him until I am sure he is safe." Ivan's voice snapped, sweet and deathly at the same time. Like a goat, or something.

"He is  _my_  son, you hellspawn!" A familiar voice hissed, and wow, he had never heard that sort of tone from his dad before! He wondered if the man was trying to copy a snake?

"And sworn to me now. Although he is your blood, it does not change the fact he is  _my_  jurisdiction now." Ivan shot back.  _What?_

"Hwha?" He tried to get out, still smushed into the taller man's side. The conversation stopped, and Ivan shifted, allowing the teen to actually see out of the coat's fluffiness.

His father was standing a ways away, eyes narrowed and burning brighter than coals, glaring at his friend as though he were the devil incarnate. Francis was off in the corner, wrapping a splint around Gilbert's arm, which looked more like an obtuse angle than an arm at the moment. The pale man was glaring at Ivan as well, but flinching at any movement he made too. With a sudden spike of insight, Alfred realised they must be right near the stove.

"Alfred?" Arthur called, his eyes not moving from Ivan. "Are you alright? Can you speak right now?" He hummed again and ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to get rid of the cottony feeling. "Can you speak?"

"Yeah." He slowly replied. "Mouth feels gummy. Why are we home?" His head was fuzzy, and the most he could remember was the cold and anger and fear at something.

"We are home because your imbecile of a guardian could not understand a simple deal." Ivan chirped brightly. He wrapped an arm around the teen's shoulders, keeping him close to his side. Alfred had a feeling he was wearing the glass smile again. "And because of that, they caused to go out into my storm and you nearly froze to death, Solnyshko."

"That's not good." Alfred said with an air of absentmindedness. He blinked again, and his mind almost rebooted, full awareness finally seeping into his mind. He glanced up at Ivan, a confused frown on his face and a furrow between his brows. "Your storm?" He glanced at Arthur before turning back. "Hellspawn?"

"I told you earlier that I was a demon of ice. You took it as a joke." Ivan replied mildly, not looking the teen in the eye. Alfred was about to go into a full interrogation because  _holy hell_ but he was interrupted by a strangled noise from his father.

"You two already... know each other?" He grit out, his face deathly pale.

"Uh. Yeah. Since the disappearing incident, actually." Alfred admitted with a grimace, reaching up to rub at his neck before pulling back with a hiss. Inspecting his fingers, he realised they were inflamed and red. Most likely from the cold damaging them. Maybe he'd be able to keep them? "He sort of helped me find food when ass-face and his brothers came to town."

"Kesesese, I'll string you up like a piece of sausage, brat." Gilbert muttered darkly from the corner, his splint in place. Alfred sent him a heated glare. Arthur ignored them both in favour of burying his face in his hands, shoulders shaking. Alfred was worried, and nearly got up to help the man, but the arm around his shoulders and the emotions on his Papan's face kept him still. Just what the hell was going on?

His father suddenly jolted, cursing in some foreign language with a snarl on his face. He paced back and forth, before halting and barking something at Ivan. The man- ice demon? Replied in kind, his tone cold. Whatever his response had been brought out a hiss from Arthur, and the Brit collapsed onto the floor, hands on his knees with a furious expression. It took a moment for Alfred to understand he was simply sitting down.

"Alfred." Arthur barked, suddenly speaking an understandable damn language again, "Do you understand what he is? Truly comprehend it?"

"Um-"

"That is not the point here, is it?"

"It's part of it, making sure he knows to fucking avoid you as much as he can!"

"There is no need to snap at him or me for your own ineptitude." Ivan replied cheerily. That made Alfred finally snap, and he pushed himself from the older man's side- was he even a man, with how these two were talking? What the hell was even going on?

"Okay, no, someone needs to explain what's going on before you two go back to the pissy fit you were having." He ground out. "Let me see if I have most of this straight. You," He pointed a finger at Arthur, "made some deal with Ivan, and mistook  _your_  end of it as needing to  _marry me off_  to him. And you," He turned to Ivan, poking him in the shoulder, "Weren't fucking with me when you said you were an ice demon. That somehow ties into the deal Dad made, and the both of you sort of hate each other. Am I right so far?" At the ensuing silence he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. "Great! Papan? Ass-face? Any input? Comments on the current proceedings?"

"That bastard broke my arm." Gilbert piped up, waving said splinted limb in the air. "And threatened to bury me in a snow drift if I 'sent you flying again'." Francis, seated next to him, sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"Your father's job is dangerous, mon fils. We were desperate to stay here, where no one cares about us, instead of having to uproot our lives to keep the whole family safe. Your father took the chance."

"Okay, but why would we need to? Why did you have to move here in the first place, why did you need to be ignored? As far as I knew, Dad just collected random plants and mixed them for salves and shit to sell to the village." Alfred demanded.

"He is a witch." Ivan interrupted again. The teen gave him a blank stare. "The offspring of an incubus and a human female." The man- demon?  _Fuck it, who cares_ \- elaborated. "Not many care for them due to their intermixed blood and abilities, so they are often targeted by the supernatural or the religious."

"Not to mention Francis' plague." Gilbert idly commented, dodging the Frenchman's responding punch, "No one wants to be near someone who's had skin rot, no matter if they're cured or not. Only place you'd get away with that is an isolated place where no one knew who the hell you were."

Oh.

Alfred sat quietly, absorbing the sudden onslaught of information, before another question popped into his head. "So, how do I tie into the deal of dad getting a conditional knight?" Both his parents wilted, and Arthur started glaring at Ivan again, hands clenching.

"He asked for you." He gritted out, looking ashamed, tired, and furious all at the same time, "And said the only way he was ever going to agree to the deal was if he got you."

"Which you took for me asking for his hand- very strange assumption, if you ask me." The ice demon said. "I could have been asking for him as an apprentice, or a slave, or even as a brother-in-arms." Arthur flushed, saying nothing, and Ivan goaded him more in a different language, a contemplative expression on his face. The answering strangled noise told Alfred he probably didn't want to know.

"Okay, so..." Alfred ran a hand through his hair. Shit, he didn't know what to think. "Okay. Where... where do this go? Is this going to be a situation where we try to ignore all the dumbass things we did and go back to normal or do I-" He cut himself off as a blush came over his face. The silence grew awkward, and Alfred flinched when his Papan suddenly stood.

"Gilbert. Out." The man spoke curtly. At the small protest he received, he did  _something_ that got the German to shut up and rush to the door, clumsily opening it and letting it slam as he ran out. There was a tense moment before Francis spoke again, saying, "You too, Arthur."

"Wh- you can't be serious-" His father started.

"I am. Out. You are too close to the issue. Vous allez être d'aucune aide à notre fils.*" Alfred watched with a large degree of disbelief as his father rose without argument, his face shadowed as he quietly opened the door and left. He sincerely hoped his father wouldn't head to the inn to drink after this.

"Alfred... Ivan." The teen turned his attention back to his father, blinking as the man stared at the duo, face grim. "I may not.. approve of this deal, but it is done. And while Arthur's side is simple, yours is something that needs to be sorted out. Alone. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to make sure Arthur doesn't drown himself in drink and set the inn on fire by accident." Ah, it was beautiful and sad how the family all had the same thought running through their head.  
Once he left, the small home was quiet, and Alfred stared into the fire in a desperate attempt to stall conversation with the man not a metre away.

"Alfred." The teen fidgeted. "Look at me. Please?" He let out a slow whine before sliding around to face Ivan. The man's face was as human as ever, nothing belying any nature of the demon he was. "Are you alright?"

The teen fidgeted again before bursting out, "How long has this deal been in place? And did you really ask for me? Like I was..." the unspoken  _property?_ Hung in the air, and the Russian grimaced at it.

"Not for the reasons you may think. As I said, many do not carry a liking for those with witch's blood- which technically you and your father both carry. I am not an idiot, and see the usefulness of having someone around with a modicum of talent. At first, I was simply going to have you as a helper, to take care of the forest and keep humans out, but then..." He shrugged his shoulders. "I  _met_  you, Solnyshko." And  _wow_ , if that didn't turn Al into a pubescent girl ogling the resident blacksmith, he didn't know what did.

"So, what now? Do we stay friends? Do I start helping you in the forest? Do we...?" He blushed, darting his eyes to the floor.

"It depends on you, Alfred." Was the quiet response. A hand came to rest on his face and tilted it upwards to look at the somehow timeless one of the ice demon. "I am certainly not adverse to keeping what we have, nor to help with my work. But... I also admit to a degree of readiness at the thought of courting a handsome," The hand swept down to his chin, and Alfred's face was near exploding "kind," A thumb moved to his bottom lip, pressing lightly, "and wonderful young man."

Alfred wasn't surprised that his lips were as warm as the rest of him.

* * *

Asterisks in order!

*Matheiu- I'm keeping his name in the French spelling because Canada doesn't actually exist at this point! And his father is a French man whose choice of name wasn't dependent on a mix of French and English colonists, either. Matvey is used by Iryna as well because she's slavic and it's damn cute to me.

*Wilhelm- Holy Roman Empire!

*Rusalkas- Slavic female water spirits, they can be spirits of drowned women or plain ol' spirits.

*Basch- This is the actually spelling for his [switzerland's] name.

*Eastern- Well, they're not all one nationality, and most of my reasoning for them being there was the fact Mongols sort of took over Russia for a while. They stayed over because of ties to the land, or something. Includes China, Japan, Taiwan, yada yada

*Iryna- Katerina and variants of it, which is what people usually use for Ukraine's human name, was never actually considered a possible choice by Hima. So I'm using one of the actual possibles?

*Solnyshko- Little sun. Ah, Russian.

*Vous allez être d'aucune aide à notre fils.- You are going to be no help to our son.


End file.
